


A Tangled Web

by needleandspoon



Series: 3 Lies [2]
Category: U2
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn, Rimming, Romance, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-25
Updated: 2007-08-25
Packaged: 2017-10-29 21:37:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/needleandspoon/pseuds/needleandspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after doesn't go anything like he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tangled Web

**Author's Note:**

> Written in collaboration with the splendiferous Melissa2U.

What the fuck? The bed was shaking. Adam's first thought was that it was an earthquake jolting him out of his sound sleep. Heart pounding, he lay perfectly still, listening and waiting for something to happen. For several seconds, nothing did. Maybe it wasn't an earthquake, maybe it was just Bono falling out of bed. But then the bed shook sharply again, discounting that theory, and since it was only the bed moving, the earthquake idea was also out. What on Earth was Bono up to now?

Adam didn't want to be forced into consciousness, particularly in such a rude manner. If this was another of Bono's games, he didn't appreciate it. He decided to counter by ignoring it. Bono should really know better.

The bed shook again, a hard jolt that was preceded by a dull thump. A boot on the footboard, how quaint. Adam snuggled deeper under the blankets. Two could play this game.

"I know you're awake."

Under the blanket, Adam's eyes flew open. That wasn't Bono kicking the bed.

The hell? What was he doing here? Adam was definitely in his own room, he was definitely in his own bed (though apparently alone) and unless he was hallucinating (possible, but unlikely) those dulcet tones belonged to none other than....

"Larry? What the fuck is going on?" Adam asked blearily.

"I could ask you the same thing, you fucker."

Adam untangled himself from the covers and sat up, settling himself against the headboard with a heavy sigh. He watched as Larry's answering glare shifted from his face to somewhere in the vicinity of his left arm. That was the thing with Larry, Adam thought, no matter how pissed-off he looked, it was, in fact, always possible for him to look even more so. And now he did.

Adam looked down. Oh. He picked the torn-off strip of condom wrapper from where it was stuck to his bicep and flicked it off unconcernedly.

"Larry, it is very, very early," Adam said, fully aware of how condescending he was sounding. "Would you mind getting to the point?"

"It's not early," Larry hissed. "If anything, it may be too fucking late." Even without the benefit of glasses, Adam could clearly see him grinding his jaw.

How Larry could expect him to figure out what that was supposed to mean, before he'd even had a cup of coffee, was beyond comprehension. He'd not even had a smoke yet. Smoke. By some miracle, a packet of cigarettes, his faithful gold lighter and the ashtray were on the nightstand. Silently, Adam gave thanks to the miracle that was Bono and sacrificed a cigarette in his honour.

Inhaling deeply and feeling the nicotine start to loosen the knots in his head, it was easier to tackle the Larry problem, whatever that might be. "I'm sorry," Adam said, aware that he sounded not the least bit apologetic. "What were you saying?"

But Larry wasn't looking at him or answering in any way aside from what the hard, tense lines of his body showed as he stalked off to throw the curtains open and stare out the window. Adam smoked, and waited. Larry would get to whatever the hell his point was in his own good time, and there'd be no rushing him. There never was.

Adam came to the end of the cigarette and Larry still hadn't spoken. He crushed out the cigarette in the ashtray with more force than strictly necessary.

He squinted across the room at his early morning intruder, wondering yet again when Larry might deign to explain himself. And while he was wondering things, where the fuck were his glasses anyway? The room was a bit of a blur without them. Adam heaved himself out of bed to look. Christ, his back hurt.

It turned out the glasses were on the coffee table, Adam found after a brief and annoying search. It made no sense for them to be there, but there was a lot of that going around this morning. He felt a lot less naked once he'd put them on, even though he was, for all intents and purposes, still very naked.

"Larry?" Adam began again. "Was there something you wanted?"

Larry turned from the window to look at him. All of him. His eyes widened, darkened. His narrowed mouth softened. "Jesus, Adam," he said at last, "put some clothes on, okay?"

Adam rolled his eyes and turned away to find some trousers. It wasn't like Larry to be so prudish; there was definitely something going on. Adam was in front of the wardrobe, still zipping up when he felt the feather-light touch of Larry's hand on his back. Tracing the tracks Bono's nails had left there. Oh.

"Why?"

Quiet and concerned, yes, but unless Adam was mistaken, accusation also. Frowning, he stood still, allowing Larry to pet the scratches while he thought, trying hard not to lean back into the touch.

Why, indeed? There were reasons, very good ones Adam felt, for his and Bono's game. Reasons Larry may or may not understand if Adam were to tell him, which he certainly was not. Although they'd never discussed it, it seemed to Adam that it would be bad form.

"Adam?"

"Why what?" Adam asked, not as coldly as he intended. Although he didn't care for being questioned, he couldn't muster the strength to stay on the defensive.

"Why him?" Larry said, his fingertips tracing over a particularly tender spot. "Why this?"

There was another question there, one that Larry wasn't asking, and one that Adam sure as hell wasn't ready to answer. It didn't matter; the 'why not me?' was there in every stroke of Larry's fingers. As if Larry didn't already know why.

"Why do you care?" Adam said at last, turning to face him, turning away from that unbearably gentle touch. It helped, a little.

He watched Larry struggle for the words with the peculiar frustration of a man of few words who has too much to say. But his face said enough.

Adam couldn't stand the silence a second longer. "It's just sex, Larry. You always make too much of it," he said quietly. He managed a ghost of a smile. "Now piss off and let me shower. We'll talk later."

Adam didn't wait to see Larry leave; he just shut the bathroom door behind him and leant against it for a moment, releasing a breath he hadn't known he was holding. What a fucking mess this all was.

He dropped his trousers, stepped into the shower, and tried not to think about any of it. It certainly hadn't been the kind of morning after he'd been anticipating. Where the hell had Bono slithered off to? Why couldn't he sleep for eight hours like normal people?

Hot water stung the raw places on his back, making him hiss with pain. Bloody Bono. If he wasn't so damned good in bed… Adam leant back against the cool tiles to ease the stinging and tried not to remember.

Bono hadn't intentionally marked him, of that Adam was reasonably sure. They generally tried to avoid leaving physical evidence, but things happened when you were spontaneous with Bono, and Adam wouldn't have given that up for anything in the world. Not even for the promise of...

"No," Adam said aloud, forcing his mind to abandon that particular tangent.

Steam clouded around him and he closed his eyes, the heat finally starting to relax him. It had been a good night, very good for that matter; not that he had expected any less. The game was old, yes, but never dull. Bono was a wonderful, if sporadic, lover. Overall, with the exception of the morning's rude awakening, Adam was rather pleased with how the night had gone.

Mmm... yes... really rather pleased, indeed. Images from the night slid through his mind, complete with sounds and scents and the sharp, desperate need of it. Lovely. Adam slipped his hand down over his belly and took hold of his cock, remembering.

And if Bono wasn't the only one he thought of as he thrust into his curled fist, he wasn't going to admit it, even to himself.

***

It was much later by the time Adam wrapped a towel around his hips and stepped out of the steamy bathroom. His glasses were foggy, so he hadn't bothered to put them back on, which was why he didn't notice at first that he wasn't alone. First order of business was a smoke. The cigarette made it to his lips, then dangled there unlit as something else finally registered. Coffee. His room smelled like coffee. His mood dropped as the lighter rose. He should have known.

"You've been waiting," he said simply. A pointless statement, save that it served to acknowledge Larry's presence.

"I wanted some coffee."

Gruff, but not enough to fool Adam. Larry didn't play the game very well; he was incapable of masking consideration behind false selfishness. His lack of artifice could be unsettling when Adam wasn't prepared for it.

He flicked the lighter, lit up and squinted through the smoke at Larry. "Is one of those for me?"

Larry rolled his eyes and handed the second cup over without a word. It was made just how Adam liked it. He sipped and smoked and waited.

"So, you said we'd talk," Larry said finally.

Adam raised an eyebrow at him over the rim of his cup. "I'd imagined that I'd at least be dressed before we did." He hadn't missed where Larry's eyes had been drifting, hadn't missed the hunger there. Adam slouched against the wall and watched him back. "But we can talk now," he leant over, set the empty cup down, put the smoke out, "if that's what you really want."

"It is." Larry set down his own cup, still half full, and fixed his eyes on Adam's.

Silence hung heavy in the air, seconds dragging by. Adam fancied he could hear a clock ticking. For someone who wanted - no, demanded - conversation, Larry didn't seem inclined to actually say anything. Adam could feel his patience slipping away. More caffeine was in order.

"It's customary," he began with exaggerated politeness, "to speak when one desires to talk." Cup in hand, he kept his eyes on Larry's as he walked over to the coffee table and the carafe he hoped wasn't empty yet. "Especially when one makes his presence felt so forcefully."

"I just need to know why, Adam. Why?"

Adam poured milk into his coffee and picked up the cup. Of course Larry wanted to know why; he always did. Taking the coffee, Adam went back to where he'd been leaning against the wall. The distance was good. "Because it's what I need," he said into the silence. "Because there are limits on what I can give anyone and Bono understands that." It wasn't the whole truth, but it was as close as Larry was going to get right now.

"Bullshit," Larry growled, pushing up from the chair and stalking towards Adam in a single smooth movement. "You're selling yourself short again, just like you always do."

"It's my choice. It's what I want." Adam drank more coffee and affected unconcern, despite the angry confusion he could see in Larry's eyes as he came closer.

"What about what I want, Adam?" Larry asked flatly. "Do you even give a fuck what I want?"

It should have been hard to hold back, to refrain from countering with an answer that would shut Larry up, but in truth, it was easy. Perhaps easier than it should have been. But Adam was sure that honesty, brutal honesty, was the last thing Larry wanted. A half truth would have to do.

"Of course I care," Adam sighed, knowing he sounded like a parent tiredly correcting a child. "What Bono and I do, or don't do, has nothing to do with you."

"You can't believe that."

The safest response was a calculated risk, the lesser of many evils. Raising the coffee cup to his lips, Adam shrugged before taking a slow sip.

"God damn it, Adam. What do you think it's doing to me, watching you throw yourself away on him and every other cheap fuck all these years? I know he loves you but he can’t give you much, and all those others…" There was genuine pain in Larry's voice, underlying the anger. "I can't do it anymore." Larry's eyes met his and held, just for a moment. "Do you even know what you mean to me?"

Larry was much too close for comfort now, high colour in his face, and breathing fast. Adam would have stepped back if he'd had anywhere to go, but his back was to the wall. Literally. Figuratively. There were only inches between them. Adam saw all the things Larry didn't want to say, clearer than the daylight on his face. Now the walls were closing in and Adam needed very badly to get away.

"I'm sorry, Larry. I can't - I have to go-"

Larry cut him off. "No," he said, more quietly than Adam could have imagined. "No." He took the cup from Adam's hand and put it aside, laid his warm hand on Adam's hip. "Please, Adam, can't we just..."

Even through the towel, Larry's hand burned. Looking down was no good; Larry's t-shirt was snug over his chest. Over his shoulder was better, though it somehow seemed cowardly. Cowardly. Adam didn't even have to pretend for that. His heart hammered in his chest. He needed to get away at least as much as he needed that touch to never stop. "You know we can't."

"Why not?" Larry's voice was lower, still insistent.

Several logical, well thought out reasons presented themselves, yet not a single one would be painless. Larry's hand moved, sliding up to touch Adam's waist above the towel - the towel that thankfully held. Adam closed his eyes to hide what that touch was doing to him. He hated what he had to do, but Larry was leaving him no choice. "I can't give you what you want, and what I can give you, you'd make too much of."

"I can look after myself," Larry said softly, his fingers tracing patterns on Adam's skin, hot and delicate. "Let me..." he insisted, swaying in, his lips brushing Adam's collarbone, "look out for myself..." He reached up and slid his free hand to the back of Adam's neck. "Let me... please..." He twitched the towel away and pressed in closer. "Please, Adam."

Fuck it. He could resist anything except temptation. Especially temptation like this. Adam wrapped his arms around Larry's hard body and pulled him closer, walking him backwards towards the bed in long, impatient strides. Larry growled low in his throat and took his mouth as they went, kissing him with unrestrained hunger. The first taste of him was better than Adam could have imagined.

At the side of the bed, Adam paused, just long enough to tear Larry's t-shirt off. Then he was pushing Larry back onto the bed, going with him, tugging at his belt, his shoes, desperate to be naked with him, desperate to have him.

This was bad. Very bad. Adam ignored the little voice in his mind that screamed just how wrong this was. Larry's mouth was too addictive. Grappling on the bed, legs tangled together, pushing and pulling to find a fit, Larry's skin... soft and smooth over his firm frame, and Adam suddenly ached to lick it clean, to feel its texture under his tongue and taste the sweat that was making it so slippery. Later. And his conscience could fuck off.

Finally, he had Larry on his back, moaning deeply at the press of their bodies from chest to groin. Adam rolled his hips, rubbing their erections together; a beat, then Larry pushed up with enough force to make the friction burn. If Adam didn't know better, he'd swear the move was calculated, carefully planned to make Adam want even more. But that would mean Larry understood a lot more than Adam gave him credit for. Impossible; Larry didn’t play games, not like this.

"Oh fuck," Adam rasped, breaking away from Larry's lips to take a breath. Larry took the opportunity and bit down on Adam's bottom lip, sucking it none too gently.

The tiny pain was exquisite and Adam rolled his hips down again, needing more. Larry's hands were everywhere, rubbing, squeezing, stroking, deliciously rough and greedy.

Larry licked and bit his way from Adam's mouth, along his jaw, and sank his teeth into his earlobe. His hips were rocking up into Adam's constantly now, quicker, harder.

"Adam..." Larry purred, rolling them over with easy strength. "Want you." He ground down on Adam again as Adam's hands grasped his arse. "God, I wanna fuck you."

Adam groaned and spread his legs, wrapping them around Larry's. His low, needy yes was muffled against the sweet skin of Larry's neck.

"You want me, don't you?" Larry kissed Adam's ear, then bit sharply. "Say it," he hissed, his hips pressing down hard.

"I want you," Adam murmured. Larry's neck was good, so good. Now that he had a taste of it, Adam couldn't stop nibbling and sucking.

"Again."

Anything, anything Larry wanted, anything to keep this gorgeous man in his arms and against his body. It was just words, wasn't it? Words were cheap, even when they were true. "I want you, Larry." He chewed on an earlobe, his tongue flicking at the earring. "Want you to fuck me."

There was triumph in Larry's groan, so unmistakable it cut through the haze of lust that buzzed in Adam's brain. A sense of warning wrapped itself around inside him, loud enough to bring sense with it. Not a lot, but enough to nudge Adam into thought. Larry wasn't safe, not like Bono.

"Take me from behind," Adam murmured, sliding his hands up Larry's back. "Deep as you can."

Larry nuzzled, rubbing his nose against Adam's as he bit at his lips. "Perfect." He wriggled and shifted down Adam's body, stopping to lick and bite at his nipples, rubbing himself against Adam like a cat.

"In the drawer," Adam said, moaning at the scrape of Larry's teeth.

"What?" Larry asked, his breath humid against Adam's skin before he bit him again, hard.

"Lube," Adam gasped. Larry's hand had wrapped around his cock. "Condoms."

Larry lifted his head and looked up at him, more questions in his eyes.

Adam hooked one finger under Larry's chin and drew him up. "Non-negotiable, Larry," Adam said against his mouth. "You're not the only person I fuck."

If he'd thought that would put Larry off, jolt him back to reality, he'd been seriously mistaken.

Larry kissed him, deep and thorough, possessive, with one hand tangled in Adam's hair and the other tight on his cock. "Is it like this with him?" he growled, pushing Adam's thighs apart with his knees. "Does he touch you like this?"

And apparently, Larry expected him to actually answer that. He was waiting, paused over Adam's body, unmoving, with a hard, triumphant look in his eyes. The warning buzz turned into a roar. Larry's hand squeezed harder. Almost pain, but not quite... Delicious.

Adam arched and writhed. "No..." It wasn't even a lie. "God, Larry... fuck me."

"Roll over."

The complete loss of contact spurred Adam into action more than the order itself. If it hadn't, the sight of Larry on his knees, balancing on one hand, and opening the drawer certainly would have. All that pale skin, pink with excitement, erection just visible from this angle, and without asking if this was what Larry wanted, Adam was on his hands and knees, too, waiting as patiently as he could manage.

If one was going to dance around a volcano, one might as well do it properly.

Larry's eyes widened and flashed as he looked at Adam. He froze, staring, lips parting to draw in a breath. Adam straightened his back and held his shoulders and backside a little higher. This wasn't going to happen again - Adam had already made up his mind about that - so Larry might as well get an eyeful right now.

Then Larry was gone, the bed shifting from his weight. Adam held his breath, sure of what would come next, or some variation thereof. He really should have known better. He was prepared for some sort of touch to his arse, perhaps a kiss or nip or two, maybe even the cold of the lubricant. But he felt none of those things.

The first thing Larry did was pet his back. The maddeningly tender caresses of before, tracing the lines left by Bono's nails.

Adam let him, savouring the gentle, deliberate feel of Larry's fingers on his skin, letting the heat of it wash over him, through him, until he was rocking, hollowing his back, spreading his legs wider. If Larry didn't get the message, he wasn't half as smart as Adam gave him credit for.

Before long, Larry did, in fact, get the message. His hand drifted down over Adam's arse, too lightly, still teasing. Adam purred, deep in his throat, but said nothing. He was in no hurry for this to be over; the memory of it was going to have to last him a very long time.

And Larry's hands were so sweet on his skin, stroking, caressing, drawing closer and closer to where Adam wanted him most. But still, the first touch of his tongue was so unexpected that Adam flinched.

The licks paused. "Is this okay?"

"God, yes." Adam couldn't believe he needed to ask.

Actually, what he really couldn't believe was that he was on his hands and knees with Larry Mullen's tongue on his arse. Twenty-four hours ago, if anyone had suggested today could turn out like this, he'd have called them a raving lunatic. Then Larry licked a broad, wet swathe up the cleft of Adam's arse and Adam stopped thinking altogether.

Larry's hands stayed in motion. Caressing Adam's hips, his thighs, then back up, lightly touching each rib before returning to his back. He exhaled heavily, the movement of air over wet skin making Adam tighten. Pressure. Gentle, tentative pressure, and Adam's eyes slid shut. He couldn't help whimpering.

Staying still was impossible. Adam had to arch up to Larry's palms, had to make them slide a bit more firmly over his back. He had to push to Larry's mouth, had to have those lips pressed harder to him and that tongue deeper. He gripped the blanket tightly, barely aware that it was his voice whispering 'please' over and over.

But Larry wasn't listening, or at least if he was listening he wasn't ready to stop what he was doing. Adam still wasn't sure that this was actually happening or if it was just a particularly vivid erotic dream. If it was, he never wanted to wake up.

Larry's tongue flicked, firmed, slid inside him, fucking him rhythmically. Adam needed to reach down and grab hold of himself, pressing hard at the base of his cock so he didn't come on the spot. He knew his begging was getting louder and more desperate; he just had no power to stop it.

He was distantly aware of one of Larry's hands leaving him, rummaging on the bed, but when Larry's finger pressed into him, warm and slick, the shock made him moan out loud.

"Do you let him do this?" Larry asked, carefully working another finger into him. "Does he do it just like this?"

There are times when you realise just how precarious your position is. Times when things could become very sticky and complicated very easily. Times when there's only one way to save yourself. So Adam was convinced he was completely justified in taking that option. It was for the best, really, for Larry's sake if nothing else.

"Larry," Adam groaned.

Larry's fingers kept moving steadily within him, rubbing and twisting and stretching him gently, as if Adam was a virgin. It was an amusing thought. That must be it, the reason Larry was behaving so considerately; Larry didn't know how used Adam really was. It was as simple as that. Nothing to worry about after all. Bono knew, but he didn't care. Larry, however...

"Answer me." Larry pushed his fingers in deeply.

When evasion fails... "Yes," Adam lied, bowing his head.

Larry's fingers slowly withdrew. "Bullshit," he said softly.

Damn it. "What?" Adam groaned.

The fingers slid back in, three this time, twisting, hooking down into his sweet spot. "Tell me he makes you feel like this."

Adam could barely answer for panting. "Please, Larry..." He pushed back into the touch.

"Tell me," Larry insisted.

"It's not like this," Adam answered, too far gone to know the truth from a lie. "It's never like this." Inside him, Larry's fingers were rubbing, teasing, and he was so fucking close it was an agony to hold back. "Come on..."

At last Larry’s fingers withdrew and he felt the bed shift, heard the rip and rustle that meant Larry was finally going to fuck him. Adam's heart was pounding so hard he felt it through his whole body.

The wait seemed interminable. Adam could imagine Larry, as slow and meticulous as ever, putting on the condom, getting more lubricant, capping the fucking tube, dragging this out. Adam was just about to ask if Larry was going to check the lighting too when, at last, he felt pressure, careful, insistent pressure that gradually increased in strength until Larry's cock finally slid into him.

He'd been so thorough, the pain Adam felt was negligible. They both moaned, Larry soft and sighing, Adam low and quiet. And when Larry rested, buried deep in Adam's arse, Adam was grateful. It would have been embarrassing to come just from being entered. But, damn, it had been close.

"Adam," Larry breathed, his hands stroking down his back. "Oh, God… Adam." The touch itself would have been calming if Larry had kept his mouth shut.

Adam lifted his head, biting his lip. What had he done, allowing Larry to get this far? The position was supposed to be impersonal, as much as that could be possible, yet Larry made it incredibly intimate. Larry wasn't a talker, not like Bono, so how was Adam to know Larry's tone was his biggest weapon?

"Adam," Larry repeated, slowly pulling his hips back.

"Jesus, Larry." It was like a dance, almost, grounded in this exquisite, lazy rhythm, led by the squeeze and stroke of those strong hands on his skin. Adam let it take him, let Larry take him, wherever, however, he wanted.

"You feel so good," Larry said, his voice gone ragged. "So beautiful..."

His pace quickened a fraction and Adam moved to match it. Fuck, this was better than he'd ever dreamed, and he was so fucked and there was no way this was going the way he'd planned, and if he didn't know better he'd have to think he'd been out-manoeuvred somewhere along the line and that was just insane because Larry wasn't Bono, wasn't anything like either of them and Jesus Fucking God, what was that?

Again, sharp and deliberate and splendidly painful, and it felt like Larry was trying to split his back open as fastidiously as possible. How anyone could control their fingers so precisely, raking with just the right amount of pressure over wounds that were already present and somehow in time with his thrusts - as well as Adam's rocking - was beyond comprehension.

What he did understand was that everything was Larry now. The burning inside him, the sounds in his ears, the scent he breathed, and now the marks Bono had given him. Larry. A single word with too much meaning that made itself at home in his mind, obliterating everything else.

"Larry."

"Yes, Adam."

A viciously hard thrust made Adam gasp loudly, in shock as well as in pleasure. Half a breath later, there was another one. Larry was fucking him hard now, harder than Adam had ever thought he would, hard enough to shift Adam forward with every thrust until it was either brace himself against the headboard or get driven through it. Larry didn't stop battering at him, deep and fast and exactly how Adam needed.

Adam was so close now, he was going to come without a single touch to his cock and that almost never happened, but this wasn't anything that ever happened to him either and yet it was and he was and it was all so fucking perfect.

Larry grunted, shoving his hips up, raising Adam's arse as he pushed. Adam's eyes flew open, wide and wild, then slammed shut as his world exploded.

Suddenly, Larry's arms were around him, chest sliding against Adam's back as he shortened his thrusts and kept them deep. There may have been more words, but Adam couldn't be sure. He was held, strong and safe, as his orgasm subsided, the nips to his shoulders getting gentler and gentler.

Larry finished moments later with a shudder and a cry that died against Adam's neck seconds before they sank together, full-length, onto the bed. Even then, Larry didn't let go, just rolled onto his side, taking Adam with him, arms wrapped tight as if he was afraid Adam would get away.

But Larry was still inside him and Adam wasn't going anywhere. His body was still tightening around Larry's cock every now and then, matched to the small hiss of breath he could feel on his neck every time Larry felt it. Larry was still petting him, stroking him softly from chest to belly and back again, nuzzling languidly into the back of Adam's neck, mumbling sweet little nothings as if he thought he should.

It didn't mean anything. Guys like Larry always said, 'I love you' afterwards, or during. It usually lasted about as long as the orgasm took to wear off. Adam wasn't going to let it disturb this very nice afterglow. Champagne was temporary too and he never let that get in the way of enjoying it. In fact, that just made it all the sweeter.

Guys like Larry... That wasn’t fair, and Adam had never known Larry to be anything but fair. However, there wasn't anyone else quite like him, was there? Adam frowned and shoved the very idea away; now was not the time for deep thought or exploring feelings. Later, after Larry left, then he'd think about how much Larry meant to him and work out some sort of damage control. He'd have to confess to Bono what he'd done, preferably before Larry told him. Bono would know what to do.

"I'm not leaving you, Ad'," Larry said as his cock slid out of Adam's body. "We've nowhere to be today; I made sure of it."

He would, wouldn't he? Typical Larry.

"You and Bono, I won't fight that."

Adam broke out in goose bumps, his heart jumping as the warning bells starting blaring again.

"Are you cold?" Larry pressed himself more firmly to Adam's back, hugging him tightly.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

And also, not to put too fine a point on it, fuck.

Phrases like 'playing with fire', 'hoist on his own petard' and 'certifiable insanity' kept running through Adam's mind. This was all such a mess, such a tangled web, such a crazy, dangerous, incredibly stupid thing to have done. If there was any light at the end of this particular tunnel, it had to be an oncoming train. How could he have ever thought Larry would just leave it for what it was: a thing in and of itself, never to be repeated and never to be spoken of again?

"Adam?" Larry's voice cut into his thoughts. "Adam."

"Hmm...?" Adam murmured, distracted by his panic.

"Stop it." There was a bit of shifting behind him, the unmistakable snap of latex as the condom was discarded, and then Larry was pulling the covers up over them both, wriggling a little, arranging them both until Adam found himself, without being quite sure how it had happened, lying warm and comfortable with his head tucked into the crook of Larry's shoulder.

"Stop what?" Adam remembered to ask, a touch belatedly.

"Stop thinking so fucking much," Larry told him, the shadow of a laugh in his voice. "I can hear you from here."

Careful. He had to be careful. And gentle. After all, this was Larry.

Adam cleared his throat. "Larry..."

But Larry squeezed him close and shushed him. "Adam, listen to me. I love you. I know you love me. Whatever you're afraid of, I'm not going to let you down. Trust me."

"But-" Sick regret was curdling in Adam's stomach.

"I don't fuck and run, Adam," Larry said gravely. "And I don't give up."

"But I do," Adam said, his eyes on the ceiling, his voice very quiet and even. "It's what I do. You know that. I can't do permanent." He reached for Larry's hand where it was resting on his chest and held it loosely. "And you can't do casual."

Beside him, Larry tensed. "But-"

"How long have you known me? You've seen it. I wish it were otherwise. I've tried, but it's just not something I can do." He paused and squeezed the hand he held. "You know me. It's not in me to be what you want."

"But Bono..." Larry trailed off.

That stung. "Do you really want what I had with him?" Adam asked a little more sharply. There was no point in sugar-coating it. "You’re already asking more of me than he ever has."

Larry turned and propped himself up on one elbow, looking down into Adam's eyes. "Can you hear yourself?" he asked.

Adam raised an eyebrow in lieu of a question.

"What you 'had with him'?" Larry quoted back at him. "Past tense, Adam."

"I treat each time as the last; it doesn't mean anything."

The excuse sounded woefully inadequate to Adam's own ears. Larry didn't seem impressed with it either. He stared at Adam - if he was waiting for a better answer, he wasn't going to get one. Adam wasn't sure of the truth himself. For almost a minute, Larry remained silent and thoughtful, his expression finally changing as he nodded.

"All right, Adam." His voice was soft, but decided, and Adam relaxed, his guard lowering, even smiling a little as Larry leaned over to kiss him. "I won't ask more of you than Bono does." Adam's eyes closed as Larry nipped his lower lip. "I'll demand of you instead."

Oh, hell. Adam pulled back, ignoring the small pain of his lip catching between Larry's teeth. Adam pushed him away and sat up, scrabbling for his cigarettes and lighting one while he tried to halt the tumble of panicked thoughts going through his head.

He could still taste Larry on his mouth.

"Adam?" Larry sat up to face him.

Damn, Larry still looked like the boy he'd been, sitting opposite him on the bed, legs crossed and that lost, uncertain expression on his face. It made Adam feel even worse for hurting him, just when he thought it wasn’t possible to feel any lower over how terribly he’d taken advantage of him. Adam reached out and caught hold of Larry's hand again, as much to make himself feel better as anything. "Fuck, Lar'..." Adam began, trailing off weakly when the words wouldn't come.

Larry threaded his fingers through Adam's and rubbed his thumb over the back of Adam's hand. "It's gonna be okay, y'know."

Adam looked down at their hands and gave a soft, self-mocking laugh. "For once I get to be the one to tell you that you need to be realistic. Isn't that the funniest thing you ever heard?" he asked bleakly.

"Hilarious," Larry answered without a trace of humour. All the boyishness had fled from his face. "And wrong."

Adam smoked and waited for the rest.

"I know you, you fucking chickenshit bastard," Larry said with affection in his voice even Adam could hear. "I know you. I've known you since you were a kid with crazy hair bullshitting your way through rehearsals and fucking your way through half of Dublin. Fifteen years, Ad'. I know you. And you know what?" Larry squeezed his hand until Adam looked up and met his eyes. "I fucking love you anyway." He plucked the cigarette from Adam's fingers and leant past him to stub it out in the ashtray. "I love you anyway." He moved closer and pressed a soft, dry kiss to Adam's mouth. "The only thing all this changes is that now I can stop wondering what it'd be like to have you like this."

"If you knew me at all, you wouldn't be talking about making demands," Adam said, his voice thick with emotion. "You'd know they usually make me want to do the exact opposite." He was still hanging onto Larry's hand, Adam noticed, even though he wasn't quite sure why. All he did know was that Larry's declaration had cracked something open inside him, and it hurt, with a real, physical pain he couldn't run away from. Didn't want to run from.

"So if I tell you this can only ever be sex and we can never have anything more, you'd be wanting the exact opposite of that?" Humour glinted in Larry's eyes.

Despite himself, the corner of Adam's mouth twitched up. "I never expect more than that."

Larry shifted, climbing over Adam's lap and straddling his thighs, his grip tightening on Adam's hand. "I'll have to prove you wrong."

There was no avoiding Larry's eyes; they were too close for Adam to even try to hide from their determined gaze. A lump lodged itself in his throat, refusing to go down when he swallowed. "I'll hurt you," Adam said.

"And I'll hurt you. It's what people do." Larry eased in closer, until the tips of their noses touched. "Then I'll forgive you and you'll forgive me, and we'll go on."

He made it sound so easy, and maybe for him it was. All Adam knew was the thought of losing him, of losing everything they already were to each other and everything that might yet be, was intensifying the pain inside him until it was almost unbearable.

Larry silently laid one hand in the centre of Adam's chest. As if he knew. Perhaps he did. All Adam knew was that it helped in some inexplicable way. And then Larry was smiling at him with that bloody marvellous grin of his, the one that lit up his eyes and his face and the whole damn room and Adam knew he'd fallen deeply and irretrievably in love with him. No more denial, no turning back. It was like diving off the edge of the world.

And damn, Larry was so bloody beautiful, in a way no one was ever supposed to be at such close range, so deeply and essentially beautiful that Adam couldn't resist tracing the tip of his forefinger down the line of one perfect cheekbone.

Adam had always had a weakness for beautiful things, all the more because beautiful things were always temporary. Temporary was safe; it risked nothing. He understood temporary with a deep and personal appreciation born of long intimacy. But Larry... he was never going to be anyone's temporary anything. He was going to be the exception to every rule Adam had ever made for himself.

It should have scared the hell out of him. Permanent always did.

Then Larry was turning his face to the touch of Adam's hand and Adam realised with startling clarity that the fear of having this was nothing compared to his fear of never having it at all.

"Yes, Larry," Adam said finally. "We'll go on."

The smile became even more brilliant. Larry slid his arms over Adam's shoulders, hugging him as he pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Larry was even more beautiful when he was pleased.

And his kisses were still possessive, despite being much gentler than before. Adam wondered, as Larry slid deeper into his mouth, if Larry was always this way. Did he, would he, always behave as if Adam belonged to him? Adam's hands caressed down Larry's back, slower. Would he ever get accustomed to the feel of Larry's body?

He rather hoped the answers were all yes.

Larry felt so good under his hands, smooth and hard and so warm. Adam couldn't stop touching him, his shoulders, his chest, the tight little peaks of his nipples, his narrow waist, the sharp curves of his hips. And his cock. Larry was hardening again and Adam couldn't keep his hands off it.

"Let me touch you too," Larry said when Adam's hands wrapped around him.

Adam shook his head and started to stroke him. "Just let me do this," he said against Larry's ear. "You're so beautiful. I want to see you come for me."

Larry shuddered. "God... Adam." His cock grew stiffer in Adam's hand.

Just like that, Larry gave himself over to Adam's desires, a fact that wasn't missed. Sure Bono trusted Adam, but it was different, limited, confined by rules he and Adam had silently agreed to long ago, rules Bono needed as much as Adam did. This was something else, something that didn't have any boundaries that he could see, bigger, wilder, more dangerous.

He whispered in Larry's ear, words he thought Larry would like to hear, words he could say without lying, words he meant but never thought he’d actually give voice to. He squeezed and stroked Larry's cock, savouring every moan and whimper he could draw from him. And when Larry buried his face in the side of Adam's neck to muffle his increasingly loud voice, Adam slowed to calm him, hoping to make it last.

But Larry was writhing in Adam's lap, pushing into his hand, clutching at his shoulders, moaning so it vibrated against Adam's neck. He was letting go, giving himself up to it, out of control and utterly glorious. A fine sheen of sweat was glossing Larry's chest, his neck, and, Adam saw as Larry threw his head back and moaned louder, the lush bow of his upper lip. Adam licked it away, licked at Larry's lips and slid his tongue between them. Larry kissed him back with a burst of sudden desperate hunger, whimpering into Adam's mouth.

There was no way Larry was going to last much longer, but it didn't matter because this wouldn't be the last time, it was only the first time. The thought made Adam grin into the kiss. Again. They'd do this again. A sense of dizzying freedom shot through him, pure and unalloyed. He threw everything into the moment, making Larry lean back in order to cry out.

And then Larry was coming, his whole body tensing and bucking, Adam's name on his lips and his arms like iron around Adam's shoulders. The sounds, God, the sight of him, the way his body shook under Adam's hands... he was never going to get enough of it.

Seeing Larry come, knowing that he alone was responsible for the intense pleasure Larry felt, was the most addicting sensation Adam had ever experienced. And he could have it again and again. There was that thought again. Adam kissed him lightly, his cheek, his temple, the tip of his nose. Larry began to calm down, to loosen his embrace and rest his head on his shoulder. He stroked Larry's back with his clean hand, murmuring softly that it was all right, it would be all right.

There was amusement in Larry's voice as he replied, "I knew you'd see it my way."

"Anyone ever tell you you're a smug bastard?" Adam murmured fondly, brushing a kiss to Larry's shoulder.

"No," Larry sighed with a note of sleepy mischief. "You're the first one."

Adam realised, as he lay Larry down and settled himself snugly beside him, that of all the things Larry had said to him that morning, that was the only one he didn't believe.

end


End file.
